Reward for the Faithful
by Annie-chan
Summary: Ri Houjun, known to most as Chichiri, finally reaches the end of his long, solitary road.


**Author's Notes:** It's been yeeeeeeeeeears since I wrote anything for _Fushigi Yuugi_. In fact, my only participation in the _FY_ fandom is my very first fanfic. I recently read through "Love, Life, and Death" again, and it seems really amateurish to me now. It's not bad for a first effort, though. Anyway, Chichiri--one of my favorite anime characters EVAR--has been clamoring for me to pay attention to him again. I've thus been experiencing lots of fond memories of my first big anime/manga interest, and since I've been trying to get back into writing mode lately, I thought I'd write something for it. Just a cute, fluffy little story featuring my favorite seishi.

_Fushigi Yuugi_ and all characters herein belong to Watase Yuu and any other copyright holders. I'm just borrowing them briefly to stimulate my writing urges. Oh, and forgive the cruddy title. I really suck at naming my stories.

**Reward for the Faithful  
**By Annie-chan

Darkness surrounded him. He felt weightless, drifting through a thick, enveloping blackness. Despite the void around him, however, he felt no fear or discomfort. Rather, he felt protected, sheltered, as if he lay in the arms of the world itself, shielded from all harm.

_Peaceful, no da_, he thought absently, letting his body remain completely loose, neither resisting his aimless drifting nor trying to direct his course. He surrendered completely, content to let himself float along in the warm, gentle current. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered where he was, but a large part of him didn't care, uninterested in discovering his exact location. It just felt so right to be here, he had no cause or desire to worry over tiny details like that.

He floated there quietly for an indeterminate amount of time. Minutes, hours, days, there was no sure way to tell. Time seemed to have little meaning here. Finally, little by little, he became aware that he seemed to be sinking. Again, no thought of concern or panic entered his mind, only acceptance and a twinge of curiosity over what was happening. It seemed he was coming closer to something, or perhaps something was coming closer to him. He wasn't really sure.

After another small eternity, he felt himself gently laid upon a smooth, not-quite-hard surface. He was on his back, his head falling slightly to the side as gravity took hold of him again. The surface he lay on wasn't soft, yet it wasn't so firm as to be uncomfortable, either. He had the strange impression that he was lying on water, his weightless body suspended effortlessly upon the surface like a fallen leaf.

He sensed the darkness around him dissipate. Slowly, he opened his eye. A soft, yellowish light illuminated the space around him, and he had an unexplainable impression that he was lying on the floor of a large, spacious hall. Points of brighter light drifted to and fro in the air above him, like specks of dust made visible by a shaft of sunlight. Looking slowly from side to side, he saw that he was surrounded by a translucent mist, and though he thought he saw a pillar here and there, he couldn't discern any walls. The ceiling was similarly undefined, and he could identify no definite light source. It was as if the air itself provided the illumination, the flecks of light shimmering slowly through the air seeming to lend credence to the notion.

As he took in his surroundings, clear thoughts reentered his mind, the emptiness induced by floating aimlessly in the darkness dissolving gradually until he felt fully awake. Alarm was still absent, however, and he felt no agitation at the unfamiliar location. He instinctively knew he was in no danger. It seemed he was meant to come here, though for what reason he couldn't guess.

He blinked, trying to adjust his vision. It seemed off, somehow. Though there was little to look at here, and thus not much in the way of reference points, his field of vision appeared distorted, stretched. He brought his hand up to his face, brushing his prominent fringe of bangs back so it wouldn't interfere...

...and then it hit him. He froze in shock, sucking in a breath. _Both_ eyes were open.

He sat bolt upright, both hands now raised to his face. The scar, the most noticeable feature of his true face, had vanished. His left eye was whole again, his brow and nose unmarred by the jagged edges of the nearly fatal wound. Movement caught his attention, and he realized that he could see his reflection in the floor below him. It wasn't a perfect image, blurry and a little dark, but he could clearly see two surprised eyes looking back at him. He was trembling slightly, and his breathing had become more pronounced. How did this happen? Who had done what to him?

His hair felt heavy on his neck and shoulders, and he realized upon raising his hands to his scalp that it was considerably longer than he had always kept it in the many years since he became a monk. Looking down at his reflection again, he saw that it was of uniform length, save for the conspicuous shock of bangs jutting out from his forehead. The light blue strands fell loose to just past his shoulders, framing his youthful face.

He hadn't seen himself like this, long-haired and two-eyed, since he was a teenager. Since before his innocence was cruelly snatched away and his world smashed to pieces, never to be the same again.

Upon the realization that he was completely bare of clothing, he began to slowly recall the events of the last few days. Gradually, things started falling into place.

_That's right, no da_, he thought. _I must have died, no da._

Chichiri, sorcerer and last surviving member of the Suzaku Shichi Seishi, had fallen ill a few weeks past. He had currently been serving Seishuku Houkan, Emperor of Kounan-koku and Saihitei's--Hotohori's--grandson, as an advisor and confidant. He was respected and revered by the people for his wisdom and his role as a sacred warrior of the Phoenix God several decades past, and held the unwavering trust of the emperor, due to his closeness with the young man's parents and grandparents. He was also seen as a religious authority, having served Suzaku as a monk for the majority of his adult life. In short, he had become an important part of the royal court over the years, and his illness had been met with universal concern and sympathy.

_I'm sorry, everyone_, he thought somberly. _I guess it was just my time to go, no da._ He knew he would be missed, and hoped that the young emperor was confident enough to rule without his support. Houkan had called him irreplaceable. Chichiri knew better than that, and he knew the empire would continue on just fine without him, but he worried about the distress his passing would cause Houkan and his court. If Chichiri had his way, they would mourn his death for the customary period of time and then go on with their lives. He hoped that would indeed be how things played out.

Laying back down on his side on the cool floor, he closed his eyes as he breathed out slowly. He felt comfortable here, peaceful. His worldly cares had fallen away, left behind with his mortal body. He had spent nearly six decades in the material world, and he felt indescribable freedom upon his spirit's release. He didn't think he would care much if he stayed like this forever, resting in this airy, silent world. It sounded rather pleasant, in fact.

_But what happens now, no da?_ he inwardly asked himself, knowing this couldn't be all there was to the afterlife. _Will I be taken somewhere, no da? Or am I expected to find my own way out of here, no da? I wouldn't mind just staying here for now, though, no da. So serene..._

A soft sound reached his ears, the first noise he had heard since waking up that had not come from himself. It was the whisper of moving cloth and delicate footsteps coming closer to where he lay. In life, he would have tensed at the approach of a stranger, especially lying nude and vulnerable on the floor as he was, but right now he simply lay still, letting them come closer unhindered. He considered reaching out with his ki to try to identify who it was, but refrained as the newcomer knelt by his head. Graceful fingers carded through his hair, and he shivered at the gentle touch.

"Houjun," the newcomer, a woman, breathed, her voice shaking slightly. "It's you, my love."

Chichiri--no, Ri Houjun--began to tremble. He knew that voice. He would recognize it anywhere, even as quiet as it was now. He hadn't heard it in decades, but oh, how he had longed to...

The hand in his hair had slid down and was now caressing his cheek. He reached up and captured the warm hand, holding it still. Turning his head, he pressed a reverent, feather-light kiss to the palm.

"Oh, Houjun," she said with a shuddering sigh. The woman seemed to be teetering on the verge of tears, her emotions barely held in check. Her other hand was now in his hair, stroking it lovingly. Finally, unable to bear it anymore, Houjun raised his head and opened his eyes.

There she was. Clad in a simple yet elegant white robe, lavender hair flowing softly over her shoulders, was the woman who held his heart in her hands.

"Kouran," he rasped, raising himself up onto his knees, his eyes locked with hers. Releasing her hand, he reached toward her, gently cupping her face. She was trembling just as he was, and she brought both her hands to her mouth, as if struggling to contain a cry. Tears of joy shimmered in her eyes, threatening to spill over onto her smooth cheeks.

His own eyes stinging sharply, Houjun gentled pulled her hands away, leaning in and sealing his lips over hers. Her arms instantly wound around his neck, pulling herself flush against him. Wrapping his own arms around her slender body, he held her as tightly as he dared, nearly overwhelmed by the dearly-missed presence that was now encircling him. He could feel and taste her tears as they flowed freely from her eyes.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Houjun buried his face in her lush hair, his own tears unleashed. "Kouran, Kouran," was all he could bring himself to say, whispering her name over and over like a prayer. He clutched his soulmate to himself desperately, heedless of his nakedness. In life, he would have been mortified to be in the presence of a woman without clothes on, but in his current situation, here and now, it was of little matter. His modesty had developed from a life of denying his sensual urges, after all, eschewing carnal pleasure in order to fully devote himself to his vocation and penance. Besides that, he couldn't even imagine becoming intimate with a woman other than the one currently in his arms, and he felt no shame at all in her presence, even exposed as he was.

"Beloved," her gentle voice murmured back, her slender hands stroking his hair and shoulders, rocking back and forth with him as they knelt on the floor. "Oh, I have missed you so, my love, my dear..."

His chest heaved in a broken sob. "Every day," he breathed, shuddering as he remembered. "There wasn't a day gone by that I didn't think of you! I couldn't bear being apart from you! I wanted so much to die, so we could be together again! I...I'm so sorry!"

Kouran gently pulled back so she could look him in the eyes. Touching her forehead to his, her hands framing his face, she asked softly, "Sorry for what?"

"I couldn't save you," he whispered, barely audible. "That day...I couldn't save anyone. Not you. Not my family. Not anyone. I was so caught up in my rage! I was so fixated on killing Hik--!" His words choked off. He was unable to say the name of the man he had come to love as a brother, the man he had believed that day so many years ago to have utterly betrayed him. "If only I had been there for you," he continued after a moment, "I could have protected you. I could have saved you!"

"Shhhhh," she soothed, wiping tears from his face even as they continued to slide down hers. "I don't think you could have. I locked myself in my room to hide my shame from the world. I didn't know the dam had broken until the water was already upon the house. I couldn't get out in time. If you hadn't been up the hill with Hikou...you probably would have died, as well."

"Kouran..."

"Hikou told me everything," she continued, stroking his cheek lovingly. "When he returned from his captivity under Tenkou, he told me everything that had happened." She sniffed, her lower lip beginning to tremble. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Houjun! I should have told you the truth! I shouldn't have abandoned you like that, leaving you to think I loved another! I've always loved you and only you! I'm so ashamed of myself..."

Houjun pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.

"Hikou told me what happened as well," he said, cupping her chin and gently stroking his thumb against her lips. "For eight long years, I thought you loved him. But as he..." He had to pause for a moment, steadying his breath. "As he lay dying, he told me the truth. He told me that he never had your love, that it was all a mistake. It...it felt like a weight off my chest to realize you still loved me, but...it made me miss you all the more."

"Houjun," she sighed, leaning forward to shyly press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She gasped slightly when he turned his head and captured her lips in a proper kiss, fingers stroking through her silky hair. She fairly dissolved into his embrace, holding her beloved as tightly as she could, feeling as if she could melt into him.

Releasing her, Houjun lowered his head so his bangs hung over his face. "This is a dream," he whispered, as if to himself. "This has to be a dream."

"No dream, beloved," she countered, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'm here. You're here. We're together again."

"Together," he repeated. He looked up into her face, his tears having stopped, yet no less emotion in his eyes. "Never to be parted."

"Never to be parted," she echoed. She closed her eyes as he kissed her again, purring as his hands encircled her middle, stroking her waist and hips through her gown. They had never been intimate in life, both of them having promised to hold off until their wedding night, and she had so many times yearned for things to be different as she waited for him in the Otherworld. Their union had been abruptly forestalled at the last minute, and then prevented altogether, and though she had outwardly been a proper young lady, shunning the idea of premarital relations, inwardly she had ached to know his body as only a wife should. More times than she could count in their years apart, she regretted not turning a blind eye to custom and going to his bed, if only once. Part of her was embarrassed at her unbecoming desires, though deep down she knew he felt them, too. The two of them were just too innocent and shy about physical love to actually act on the impulse. Their wedding night was to be their first coupling, but that night had never come.

_We'll have to remedy that_, she thought, just enjoying the feel of his lips on hers and his hands as the stroked along her back and sides. _But not now.__ Later. When the time is right._ For now, these chaste caresses were enough to satisfy her and, she could read in his touch, him as well. There was no need to rush into things. When the time came, they would finally come together completely. Until then, just having him with her was a godsend.

"Come, Houjun," she said aloud, extracting herself from his embrace and standing. "Hikou is waiting. He'll be so happy to see you again. Your family, too." She took his hands and pulled him up after her.

"Hikou," Houjun said, apprehension in his scarlet-brown eyes. "He is at peace?"

"Of course he is," Kouran smiled. "He's had thirty years to make peace with himself. It was a struggle for him at first, but he has long since put his demons to rest." She squeezed his hands in hers. "He is once again the kind, gentle man who called you brother."

"Thank the gods," Houjun breathed a sigh of relief. "I was so worried when he vanished. Tenkou's defeat released his soul from damnation, but I could only guess at how well he would heal after all he had gone through." He bent his head, again pressing their brows together. "I'm so glad to hear his wounds have closed."

Kouran gave him an affectionate smile, standing on her toes to deliver a quick peck to his lips. "Come now, beloved. Everyone is probably wondering where I am by now."

"Yes," he nodded, returning her smile. His smile widened as she grasped his hand, pulling him along behind her as she walked toward...well, wherever the exit to this large, misty room seemed to be. She was so much smaller than him, dainty almost, yet he let her tug him about like a child's toy.

As the mist cleared, the light growing brighter around them, Houjun's eyes suddenly widened as he saw, in his mind's eye, the unmistakable image of his patron god, Suzaku-seikun, the Vermillion Bird of the South. The tall, scarlet-haired man had his wings spread wide, an indication of his openness and good humor. A graceful smile curved his lips, and his deep, regal voice spoke in the former seishi's head.

_Welcome, Chichiri, my most faithful servant. Welcome home._

**End**

**Author's Notes:** Owatta, no da. Before you say anything about how the seishi were all supposed to be reincarnated in Miaka's world, I already know that. I chose to ignore that for the purposes of this story, though. This is fanfiction, so I can do that. And also, about sex in the afterlife: I know many people believe that it's strictly a worldly activity, and there's no need for it in the afterlife. I, however, have no definite opinions on the subject, only that since sex is such a powerful bonding experience for people who love each other, there's likely _some_ kind of spiritual equivalent for life after death. I dunno. Just no lectures on what your religious beliefs say on the subject, please and thanks.

Anyway, thoughts? HoujunxKouran is one of my OTPs--probably my first, actually--and I'd like to hear how you all think I treated the subject. There's "Love, Life, and Death," of course, but like I said, that was written years ago and really isn't a good example of my current writing style. Leave a review, please, if you feel the need to. Criticism is preferably constructive, as per usual.

Baibai, no da!


End file.
